“_Learn!_ I guess so—a sitting with gloves on and curls below her girdle—I aint a fool, Mrs. Fay!” said Aloes. CHAPTER IV. Although Anna was really much pleased with the majority of her new acquaintances, their manners and conversation, as also their style of dress, so entirely different from what she had been accustomed to, did not escape her criticism, yet, for the sake of her husband, she was resolved to overcome her prejudices, if so they might be called. Speaking of them one day to Rupert, she said: “No doubt they are very excellent, worthy people, but it does not appear to me _now_ that I can ever really learn to take any pleasure in their society—yet I hope I shall always treat them with perfect politeness, and kindness too, for they are very warm friends of yours, Rupert.” “Thank you, Anna—they are indeed good friends of mine, and so will they be, too, of yours, when they know you better; and you also, my dearest, will find that beneath their plain exterior and homely speech they have warm hearts, and minds far above many of those who figure largely in what is termed the _best society_.” “I do not doubt it, Rupert,” replied Anna. “Well, I must try to conform myself to their habits, I see, and for your sake I hope they will love me, for it is very plain to me, from some words which one of the good ladies accidentally let fall, that they consider me now a most useless, unprofitable wife—a mere image for a toy-shop, and that I shall prove a perfect stumbling-block in the way of my dear husband’s advancement. Now tell me,” she continued, and tears filled her beautiful eyes, “what can I do to gain their friendship, and convince them that I prize my dear Rupert’s respect and affection too highly not to exert myself to be worthy of them—tell me, Rupert, what I can do?” “Act yourself, my darling wife,” said Rupert, kissing her, “be as you ever are, kind and lovely. It is true many of my best friends do not approve of my choice, but do not trouble yourself about their approbation—only act in your new sphere as your own good sense and native kindness prompts you, and you will be sure of it. I sometimes think it was cruel in me to woo you away from your home of splendor to this retired, uncongenial spot. I fear you can never be really happy here, and in spite of your love for me, will often sigh for the luxuries you so cheerfully gave up for my sake.”